


Frühling In Paris

by KissTheCannibal



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Rammstein
Genre: AU, Alpha Till, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crossover, Fluff, M/M, Omega Richard, Omega Tony, Omega Verse, Paris - Freeform, Sex because sex, so very fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissTheCannibal/pseuds/KissTheCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heir of SI, Omega Tony Stark, must be sent off for proper education at an Omega only school in Paris, the heart of Europe. Omegas from all over the world are sent to this prestigious academy to be taught the exquisite art of higher class courting. To be honest, he would never want a Mate, an Alpha. Alphas, like his father, could only be cruel. </p><p>There's a swimming competition in Paris one month, a junior Olympics. Teams are shipped in from all over the continent. A certain East German team arrives and dear Tony has caught the eye of another young man, an Alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frühling In Paris

**Author's Note:**

> New work! First, actually. I do believe this crossover is the first of its kind. Chapters will be posted sporadically!

It had been fourteen years. Fourteen years since he'd been sent away. Fourteen years to grieve his sex and his status in life. An Omega was a breeding facility, a bird to build its nest and find a mate and never give a thought to "free will." It was in the Omega nature to submit. Especially, the male Omega. The sterile of the gender. A useless Mate, their needs unmet and ignored, they simply could not afford to protest their place in life. Most would rather shrivel and die rather than live through a misery like no other, the empty nest. Tony thought otherwise. Nothing could compare to the shame it brought to him, but he masked it well. His friends lovingly spoke of him as a whore, he enjoyed that. To see a wanton Alpha squirm when he let his fingers wander up his classmate's thigh was compensation to his biology's cry to run to him instead. 

Fucking biology.

He clutched Matthew's hand as they passed the onlookers. Beta chaperones kept them all in neat lines, Omegas in twos, marching quietly along the streets. It was a very dangerous matter, the scents they gave in a mass. He was used to the stared but he could never shake the burning in the back of his neck. Tony could cope with himself, letting black fringe hang over his eyes, lips free of gloss, and head down despite it being a disgustingly submissive posture.  
"What's that?"  
It was Matthew. Thank god for that cross dressing little bitch, his best friend and his obliviousness to his discomfort. It often worked for the better and only then did Tony raise his head. They were passing by a hoard of young, fit Alphas. Well, shit. A soft chorus of keens and curious hoots could have been heard a few yards in the back of the line. Younger Omegas, unable to swallow their urge to preen in an Alpha's presence. Tony whirled his head to hiss at them. Startled teachers gave him a harsh look. The young heir returned to narrow his gaze at the clumps of Alphas, Betas here and there in the masses, all huddled user the shade of awnings as they waited their turn to check in. The Spaniards whistled for the smooth, pale Omegas who shuffled past, sharp toothed grins welcoming whatever timid pair of eyes wandered. Other groups waved and grinned themselves, puckering their lips. Only one group, at the very end of the line,was entirely silent. They did watch and a barked command from their instructor sent their heads bowing. The tongue was coarse and throaty and very distinctly German. The instructor himself wen quiet and gave a teacher in the line a polite nod. 

Tony let his eyes wander until he froze on the pair that stared back.

His own gaze didn't waver from the other's. Something about his silence and unthreatening presence gave him a sense of calm. Calm may have been the wrong word to use. Tony broke from his reverie when he felt the hand of his companion clamp down on his, only to look back over to the German, he assumed, taking note of his heaving breaths. He started to feel like Omega he truly was at being fawned over in such a matter and for them to gather them all so publicly, knowing the risks were just as plausible as they would be in the real world alone.

The broad youth kept his eyes on him long enough to memorize each of the Omega's sweet features, from his melting eyes to the perfect red lips to the brownish black fringe that bounced over his face. He had to wonder if this beauty was Parisian. The attitude that hung over him was demanding, knowing, formidable. All these things were far too dominant for any Omega he'd been told of. Perhaps it was the echo of pain, of abandonment that truly caught his eye. 

 

~~~~~

 

"Herr Lindemann?" The coach called over the sea of heads in the polished lobby. "Herr Lindemann," he barked. Disdainful looks from a few French got him to quiet down and assess things silently. He leaned to the closest boy while using his free hand to push his glasses further up his nose, asking where Till had gone. The answer he was given was clueless. Someone mentioned they had his bag and admitted to seeing him leave the group after claiming to have forgotten something. The coach pinched the bridge of his nose. Again...

~~~~~

The Alpha never had to present IDs. He was not even 18 and yet he looked well grown into his twenties. All the porn in the world was accessible to him. The swimmer took his change and stuffed the magazine down the back of his trousers, his stony features unwavering even in the scandalous transaction. "All you needing?" Was all he caught from the cashier's languid French. He nodded and gave a simple yes and thank you before shuffling to the tinted glass door of the Adult shop. Of course it flaunted something more French for a title. "Café Risqué." Of course it was. He'd taken a small bag of his own as evidence that he had in fact lost something and merely left to fetch it. He'd used this tactic before with his coach but the Beta would be swarming and drowning in snooty remarks from the locals to pay enough mind. Till was the hero, the man with porn, the boys always grinned when he turned up after disappearing. He'd been told his career was on the line if he were to sneak off again, but that was fine. He was 17 and even then had had his fill of work and chatter of career paths. When it came to swimming, he was hyper focused, it gave him the easy control over air in his lungs and the pumping of his arms and legs. But sports school was a demanding one, and he had little passion for floundering in a pool of sterilized water. He'd learned to swim in rivers and creeks deep in the woods of his home in East Germany. It had been nature and the vague, scattered signs of feral wildlife and the chaos of their world that gave him any passion at all. But his talent as a swimmer was what gave his mother pride despite having been stuck with a drunk husband who's works were dwindling from their prime. He never gave a thought to his own son's writings. As a poet himself, a professional at that, the slanted, half obvious style Till wrote in was naive and childish and the themes all too dark for a youngster, let alone a decent writer. So he had been shipped to sports school. The light of day streamed onto his pale complexion. Hundreds of bitter winter days left him with near translucent skin. The door jingled as it swung to a close. He didn't have to make it very far before stopping again. A breeze dusted his face with spring flowers, and only the sweetest scent he could remember, a scent he had only learned of hours before. The Omega was here.


End file.
